


3 pairs of socks and 1 stray

by Signe_chan



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-31
Updated: 2011-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-28 13:12:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/308216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Signe_chan/pseuds/Signe_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the fic I didn't write game at Puck/Kurt.</p><p>Truck driver Noah Puckerman didn't have much in terms of belongings. Clean socks and clean underwear, that was all he needed. Until the night he met runaway Kurt Hummel. The kid had been hitch-hiking with another truck driver Noah knew demanded specific favors in exchange for rides so he followed them out of the truck stop. He didn't plan on picking up some stray kid but one look into those blue eyes and he was inviting Kurt on the road with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	3 pairs of socks and 1 stray

**Prologue**

There was a time when Noah Puckerman would have said with confidence that he’d never get a job, let alone one he enjoyed. Some time after realising that no matter what he said or did, Quinn would never keep the baby and she’d never let him keep the baby, he’d gone off the rails a bit. Landed in juvie a few times, gave up on being anything.

Then things had changed, and he’d needed money and fast. He’d thought, then, about his old man. He’d remembered the truck his dad used to drive, the way it had smelt, how he’d felt like king of the world sat in that cab.

He did, despite everything, still have a clean driver's license. He went to the guys who used to employ his dad, before his dad had made himself unemployable, and talked them into giving him a trial run.

He hadn’t stopped since.

The company liked him because he was reliable, didn’t complain about doing the longer hauls, and he didn’t take holidays. He liked the roads, the feeling that he was master of this country, that he knew the roads of America like a lover knew the lines of their lover's body. He liked not having ties, not having the weight of expectation that came with being too close to any one person. He loved how he got to choose when he drove, when he rested. He loved the easy camaraderie with the other drivers; how every other man on the road was a pal, but none of them wanted to get too close.

He missed his Mom sometimes, and his little sister, but he was kind of used to missing things. He still saw them sometimes when he wasn’t on a job, though normally when he got in, the boss already had another job waiting for him.

Today was no exception, and he got a docket for a private delivery of the entire contents of a house from Westerville, Ohio to Salt Lake City.

It wasn’t his favorite run, and he preferred commercial runs with goods to private runs like this. People were less uptight if things were a bit bruised when you got there. Though if the people who were moving wanted to pay through the nose for him to haul their stuff, he wasn’t going to complain, not really.

He went straight to the house and spent most of the day resting in his cab while movers loaded him up under the worried gaze of the home owners. The guy came up to him a few times, looked down his nose at him and warned him he’d better take care of his stuff. Priceless antiques and all that, like Puck gave a damn about this guy’s possessions other than the fact that damaging them meant he wouldn’t get paid.

The lady of the house seemed nicer at least, she brought him coffee and sandwiches at lunch time, and more coffee as the afternoon wore on and they were still moving boxes.

They had two kids, both girls aged about ten or twelve, he would guess. About how old he imagined Beth would be now, though both these kids had bright orange hair and no kid of his would ever look like that, so they didn’t worry him too much. They did, however, have like a million questions. Their dad kept trying to chase them away, but they’d only creep back a few minutes later with more questions.

The other thing he hated about driving for families was how long it took. No big industrial containers, just a stream of little people with little boxes. He was itching to go before they were half done, though he tried not to show it. The family seemed nervous enough about him already.

It was 5:30 by the time the movers finally declared him loaded and gave him the signal to get on the way. The little girls stood in the street waving at him as he drove off, which he thought was damn cute.

And it felt good to be moving again.

 

 

 **Leg 1 – Westerville to Columbus – 17:30 to 18:00**

Normally when he set off he'd set off early, so it bugged him a little to be leaving so late. Late enough he knew he wasn’t going to get far until morning. Besides, his stomach was growling already. Those dainty little sandwiches he was given were lovely, he was sure, but nothing on a real meal.

It didn’t take much to decide to pull in at the truck stop outside Columbus, though he’d only been on the road for twenty minutes. It was one of the stops he considered himself a local at. Being based in Columbus he came through here a damn lot, and he knew the people well.

He was dying by the time he pulled in, and he noted his first tiny hop in his log, locked down his cab, and headed into the diner to get some dinner.

It was a kind of rough and ready place, the kind of place you thought of when you thought of a trucker. Nothing on the menu that didn’t contain grease, and all the booths full of burly men brooding over cups of coffee. It was almost like it was making fun of itself, and Puck liked it for that, if nothing else. The staff here knew him by name, too, and it only took a gesture to Charlene as he walked in the door for him to find himself seated with a hot pot of coffee and bacon and eggs on the way.

She chatted with him for a while since the diner was pretty quiet, asking where he’d just been and where he was off to next. He told her about the run down from Columbus to Georgia, one of his more regular routes, and how he was going to Salt Lake City. She chatted to him for a while about how a friend of her aunt’s had once moved to Salt Lake City, but moved back because she couldn’t do with all the Mormons.

He smiled and laughed, and when his dinner was in front of him, she wandered off to wash dishes or talk to some guy at the counter, leaving Puck free to scan the place.

It was pretty empty, though he guessed it might get busier later. Only three other booths were occupied: a guy he didn’t know who sat too low in his chair and seemed to really be concerned with his omelet, Johnson who worked for the same company Puck did, and Karofsky. Johnson was a nice guy, but old. Puck reckoned he wouldn’t last many more years at this game and, like Puck, he didn’t have a lot outside it. So when Johnson had to hand over his keys for the last time, he’d be lost. Maybe in other circumstances Puck would have moved over to talk to him, but Johnson was deep in his newspaper, and Puck was itching to get on the road again as soon as he was done eating.

Karofsky, well, that guy was another prospect altogether. He had a bit of a reputation, and not for the right things. He wasn’t mean or a drunk which was good, because you met some guys driving and you wondered how they didn’t get fired. Karofsky, though, he had a reputation for hitch hikers--pretty ones, particularly--and the kind of payment he expected for a ride in his cab.

Puck kind of hated him. Karofsky thought he owned the road and even walked with some messed up swagger and, worse, he didn’t respect anyone. He was glad Karofsky didn’t try and talk to him too much, though he supposed he’d mouthed off to the other guy about his behavior enough for Karofsky to leave him alone.

He was half way through his dinner when the door of the diner opened.

A kid stood there. Well, maybe not a kid. Late teens, probably. Tall but with a baby face, clothes that looked too plush to be allowed through the door, and not a hair out of place. He was clearly a bit of a fairy and clutching a rather large duffel bag so it wasn’t hard to work him out.

He looked down at his plate so he didn’t have to see how Karofsky’s face lit up.

The boy stood there in the doorway letting the draft in for a few seconds, before moving in to the room. Puck watched out of the corner of his eye as the kid bit his lip and looked around the room. Karofsky was the only one who met his eye, and they shared a little smile.

“Erm...” the boy said, loud enough to be clear over the sound of Kesha on the diner’s radio. “I just...I’m trying to get to San Francisco; I wonder if any of you could give me a lift?”

The last bit was uncertain, like he wasn’t sure this was such a good idea after all. Karofsky was grinning like a wolf.

“I’m going that way,” he said, ditching the last of his dinner and moving around the table to stand in front of the boy. To his credit, the boy didn’t flinch, even when faced with Karofsky who was doing a decent impression of a wall of muscle.

“Oh, would you mind?” the boy asked, fidgeting a little with a strap from his bag. “I have some money, I mean, for the lift.”

“Hey, don’t sweat it,” Karofsky said. “We’ll work something out. Come on; let’s get on the road, no time like now.”

“Sure, I guess,” Kurt said, though he looked a little troubled. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Karofsky said, and his grin was predatory. He’d never seemed to care much if it was a girl or a boy he had under him in the back of his truck in the night, and Puck felt sorry for the kid who clearly didn’t know what he was getting into. For a second he thought about standing up and intervening, telling the kid he’d get him as far as Salt Lake City, but Karofsky paid quickly and was already moving them out of the diner, and Puck didn’t want a scene. Anyway, the kid was obviously queer; he might be looking for that kind of thing.

Though he had looked damn innocent.

Charlene came by to clean the table. He mopped up the last of the egg on his plate with some bread, and stood up and made his way to the register to pay.

Charlene gave him a look as he stood there, as if he’d let her down. He tipped her real well but she still glared at him, so he just shrugged. Wasn’t his problem if the kid got himself into some stupid situation. Still, he’d be driving along the same roads, if Karofsky was heading to San Francisco. For a while, at least. It wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye out, though he’d probably never see the kid again.

 **Leg 2 – Columbus to Indianapolis – 19:00-22:00**

When he climbed into his cab, Puck tried to put any thoughts of the kid out of his mind. Cranking the volume up on his CD player and belting Sweet Caroline at the top of his lungs, he drove. It normally worked, but there was something about that kid. Innocent, probably running away from home, and landed with an ass like Karofsky.

Wouldn’t do Puck any good to think like that, though. Nothing he could do about it, best not to get involved.

He kept thinking about it anyway, until about an hour down the road he spotted Karofsky’s truck pulled over in a rest stop. For a few seconds he tried to convince himself it was a different truck, but he knew that truck from before he’d known Karofsky was such an ass, when they’d been kind of casual friend.

He knew what he should do, he should drive on by. What Karofsky was doing in a lay by one hour out of town after picking up some twink was none of his damn business. He just couldn’t get the kid out of his head. He knew truck stops, he knew the kinds of people you got and the kid didn’t seem the kind who’d be happy to exchange a quick fuck for a ride. He was just...he didn’t look the type. He’d looked nervous and Puck had always been a sucker for kids in need.

He pulled over, and hoped to hell the kid would thank him and not yell at him.

As he rolled to a stop he saw the passenger door of Karofsky’s truck open and the kid almost throw himself out, falling on his face in his hurry to get away. The driver’s door opened a few seconds later and Karofsky came out too but the kid was fast and running Puck’s way.

Puck leant over and unlocked the passenger door, then pushed it open. The kid looked up, a little unsure, then back at the wagon he’d come from. He couldn’t see Karofsky running down the other side, his trousers flapping by the looks of it, but he did see Puck looking and a second later he was scrambling up into the cab, slamming the door behind him.

“You okay?” Puck asked. The kid looked at him for a second, then down at Karofsky who’d stopped to do himself up and give them a dirty glare. Puck shrugged his shoulders at the other truck driver and got the finger in return.

“I...I will be,” the kid muttered, shifting in his seat a little. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Puck replied, shrugging. “Karofsky’s an asshole. I’m figuring my next stop is Indianapolis, I can take you that far if you like and then you’ll probably have no trouble finding a lift the rest of the way.”

“What do you want from me?” the kids asked, shifting nervously and gripping his bag to his chest as if he was getting ready to take his second dive out of a cab for the day.

“See,” Puck said with a grin, “Now you’re asking the right questions. I stopped ‘cause I know what a shit Karofsky is, wouldn’t be the right thing to leave you here now so I’ll take you to my next stop for nothing, ‘cause it’s the right thing to do. Next time, work out the rate before you get into the cab. Won’t necessarily stop the creeps but if might give you a heads up.”

“Are there a lot of people like him on the road?” the kid asked, gesturing at Karofsky who’d slumped back down the side of his truck and was stood there, leaning against it and watching them.

“Decent amount,” Puck replied with a shrug. “It’s like any job, decent amount of creeps. Most of them aren’t as blatant as Karofsky and they tend to prefer the little girls but, well, no offense kid but you look like you fell of the gay train to gay town, most of the people who want to give you lifts are gonna presume they’re going to get a little sugar for it, you know. Not your fault, you can’t help how you look, but some people are idiots.”

The kid nodded and Puck turned his attention back to Karofsky who was still stood there like he was waiting for Christmas or something. With a sigh Puck slid his wagon into gear and pulled out again, leaving him behind. It he wanted them to go first then, whatever, they’d go first.

The kid seemed to loosen up once they were out of the lay by, loosening his grip on the bag a little and looking around the space. Puck tried not to watch him look, but to be honest he was a little proud of his cab. He had one of the better ones, a better model that Karofsky’s anyway. Not that he thought the kid wold appreciate it, but his was pretty sweet. He didn’t have much storage space but, then, he didn’t have much stuff. He did have a lot of space in general, more then most cabs. He had his bunk, a small table, and the bunk above him where his stored a load of the stuff he needed when he was on the road.

The kid didn’t look too impressed, but Puck was only watching him out of the corner of his eye so it was hard to tell.

“Hey,” he said, shifting a little in his seat. “Mind if I put some music on?”

“Go ahead,” the kids said with a shrug, and Puck grinned before sticking the CD back in and cranking it up.

He was pretty surprised that the kid sung along on some of the songs. Even if he did sing like a girl.

 **Overnight in Indianapolis - 22:00-08:00**

Puck wasn’t as familiar with Indianapolis as he was with Columbus, but he still went through often enough to have a favourite place to park up. It was pretty quiet, being a weekend. Most everyone preferred to make their runs in the week if they could, though being a trucker meant that wasn’t always possible.

When they pulled into the stop, though, the air in the cab thickened. The kid kind of curled in on himself, pulling his bag close again, and Puck felt a little sorry for him but, well, just because he’d kind of been good company so far didn’t mean Puck had turned into the kind of guy who picked up hitch hikers.

He had good reasons, too. Everyone thought that the hitchhikers thing was only scary for the person getting picked up in the truck, he’d heard of things happening to guys who picked people up. Getting beaten up, shit getting stolen. It wasn’t that he thought the kid was going to steal anything from him but, well, it was the principle. And he just didn’t like riding with anyone else. He liked his solitude.

He still felt damn bad when he turfed the poor kid out, leaving him stood there clutching his bag and looking scared as hell. It was almost enough to make him change his mind but, well, life is tough. Kid had to learn that somewhere.

He didn’t watch as the kid squared his shoulders and walked into the diner, definitely not. He was focusing on his log. Important to fill out the log, got to get the details right or he’d be in trouble with the office. Laws to follow and all that. He didn’t notice how a few minutes later the kid came back out of the diner and sat down on the floor, wrapping his coat around himself. Like he was damn well doing to sleep there. He didn’t notice because he was filling out his damn log.

If he got down from his cab it was because he wanted a stretch, not because he was going to go get the kid. And if he walked over to the kid, it was just because that was the best direction to walk. Nothing at all about being a pushover.

The kid looked up and him, and he’d been crying. Puck was a lot of things but he wasn’t the kind of cold hearted bastard who’d make a crying kid sleep outside in the cold alone.

“You can sleep in my truck,” he said, “But tomorrow you’ve gotta find another ride, alright?”

“Thank you,” the boy said, scrambling to his feet and swiping at his eyes. Puck just sighed and lead the way back over to the truck, gesturing for the kid to move into the back while he locked down and secured everything.

At least he be able to look Charleen in the eye next time he went through Lima, let her know he had done right by this kid after all.

The kid was sat on the bottom bunk, still clutching his bag and looking lost, and Puck couldn’t help but sigh.

“What’s your name, kid?” he asked, figuring if he was going to spend the night sleeping in the same cab with him he might as well know that much.

“Kurt,” he said, giving Puck an uncertain smile. “And yours?”

“Noah Puckerman, but everyone calls me Puck so that’ll do. Come on, let’s clear off the top bunk, we can dump all that stuff in the front of the cab for now, it’s not like we’re gonna have to go anywhere in a hurry.”

Kurt nodded, but he still seemed hesitant to touch anything so Puck started the moving, chucking stuff into the front, and the kid...Kurt...soon joined him. Once the bunk was clear he shifted past Kurt to retrieve his spare blanket from the cupboard next to his bed.

“You hungry?” he asked, glancing at Kurt then at the box of food they’d just moved off the top bunk.

“No, I’m fine,” the boy mumbled, blushing a little, and he looked so damn uptight that Puck didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry.

“Look,” he said instead, turning round and sitting down on his bunk. He gestured for Kurt to do the same and after a few seconds he did. “Right, I’m not an idiot. Doesn’t take a genius, though, to work out that you’re running away from something, and that you ain’t used to living like this. This is your first time out on our own, right?”

After a few second Kurt nodded. His hand tightened around the strap of his bag, like know he’d admitted to it Puck was going to take advantage of him.

“I’m not Karofsky, the guy who picked you up first. I know I’ve said this but I’m gonna say it again. I’m not a bad guy. I don’t normally do hitch hikers, I like travelling alone, but I ain’t gonna leave you stood at the side of the road or freezing your ass off out there alone all night either. I don’t want to know what you’re running from or to or whatever, I’m not interested in your money or, well, anything you can give me really. I ain’t gonna take advantage so if I offer you something, it’s because I don’t mind you having it. I ain’t gonna hurt you, you don’t have to look so uptight.”

Kurt blushed, but he made a visible effort to relax and Puck breathed a sigh of relief. At least the kid was trying. He could work this as long as the kid tried too.

“Thank you,” Kurt said. “I...just thank you. I’m actually pretty hungry, it’s been a few days since I ate...”

“Well, I’ve not got anything that substantial,” Puck said with a laugh. “But I bet I’ve got the makings for some sandwiches or something, and I’ve got a whole lot of snack food you’re welcome too.”

“Thank you,” Kurt said again.

Puck stood up and went to retrieve the box of food, checking his fridge for the remains of some sliced ham and a carton of juice. He’d have to stock up again next time he stopped at a place with a convenience store, though he tended to eat in diners. For a second he considered taking Kurt over to the diner and feeding him up but he doubted the kid would be comfortable with being out there, or with Puck paying. Easier to feed him here.

They say side by side on the bunk and ate in companionable silence. Puck wasn’t so hungry but he guessed Kurt might feel weird sat there eating his food while Puck watching him, so he put together a sandwich of his own and ate it with a glass of milk to wash it down. Kurt kept glancing at him like he was going to say something, but he didn’t and they just ate.

When they finished, Kurt helped him pack everything away, moving gracefully around the space in a way that Puck kind of envied.

“You need to go over there and brush your teeth and shit?” Puck asked. “Wasn’t thinking when I shut everything down.”

“I...I’ll be fine for one night,” Kurt said, though he looked uncertain. “I don’t think I want to go back out there tonight.”

“That’s fine,” Puck said with a shrug. “Though I’m going to go over there, gotta take a leak, so if you want to go over with me you can...”

There was a moment’s hesitation, then the Kid grabbed his bag and nodded. Puck grinned, unlocking the door and hustling them all out as fast as he could to keep the heat in. They rushed across to the rest rooms and Puck took a slash and brushed his teeth while Kurt messed around with face cream and shit. While he was brushing his teeth he stepped outside for a breath.

It was only when he was waiting that something caught his eye and he guessed why Kurt had been so reluctant to come out alone. The other guy must have noticed when he didn’t. Karosky’s wagon was parked up, a way from theirs but still there. He didn’t think the other guy would try something after being turned down but you never know.

He couldn’t see him on the lot and the curtains were drawn on his truck so he guessed there wouldn’t be an incident. He hoped their wouldn’t be an incident.

Kurt came out of the bathroom looking clean-scrubbed and nervous, and maybe Puck stuck a little too close to his elbow as they went across the lot, but he sure as hell didn’t want anything to kick off. Last thing he needed was a fight on his hands.

They got back without incident, though, and Kurt took his shoes off as soon as they were in and shimmied up on to the top bunk as they were locking down, wrapping the blanket around himself.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, pulling the sheets tight around himself.

“Don’t mention it,” Puck said with a shrug. He kicked of his own boots and slid into his bunk, turning off the light and trying to forget the curl of protectiveness that had settled in him when faced with the idea that Karofsky was so close.

 **Leg 3 - Indianapolis to Illinois - 08:00-11:30**

Puck didn’t get much sleep that night, and it wasn’t because of the quiet, unfamiliar noises of another person in his space, moving around and breathing. It was more the idea of Karofsky, the idea of what Karofsky might do to the kid. Kurt, who’s seemed to uncertain and timid. Not that he thought Karosky was the kind to not take no for an answer, but at the same time maybe he was that type. Puck didn’t know how you’d tell.

Something about the idea really got to him though, made him tense.

When his alarm went off he’d had maybe three hours sleep. Not enough, and he was kind of tempted to just roll over and get some more, but he had a deadline on this delivery and he was willing to bet that family would be pissed if he wasn’t there with their damn antiques and shit. He could catch up on his sleep on the way back.

He got out of bed and stretched, sparing a glance for Kurt who was blinking at him owlishly from the top bunk, then grabbed his wash kit and unlocked the truck, sauntering across to take a slash and clean up.

Karofsky was still there, he wanted to punch the guy. He wasn’t even sure why he cared so much.

When he get back Kurt was fully awake and he moved to the bottom bunk. He was using the tiny mirror in the back to put some more cream on his face, and Puck would have laughed at him doing it if he didn’t look so damn young and vulnerable sat there.

“When you’re done we’ll go over to the dinner and I’ll buy you a breakfast,” Puck said, “Most important meal of the day when you’re travelling, breakfast.”

Kurt nodded at him and smiled and Puck certainly didn’t feel anything at that. Definitely not.

He checked his maps while Kurt messed around, he reckoned he’d make Lincoln by nightfall. Easy, really. It wasn’t a bad run, lots of good roads, though not the most interesting for a driver but he’d have his music to keep him company.

Kurt finished up and they went across to the diner. Of course Karofsky, the fucker, was already in there, drinking coffee. He stared at them when they came in but he didn’t move and he didn’t say anything so Puck just showed the kid over to the other side of the diner and ignored him.

He didn’t ask Kurt his plans, just made polite enquiries about how he’d slept and what he thought about the cabs now he’d been in one properly, they weren’t as bad as people thought.

Kurt made little noises and stared at Karofsky with wide eyes. He ate when Puck insisted but mostly ignored his food, pushing it around his plate and looking worried.

Puck checked and Karofsky was staring at them. Well, he was staring at Kurt. Staring like as soon as Puck stepped out he was having thought about coming over here and talking to Kurt, maybe making him an offer like he’d clearly made last time.

Puck wished he wasn’t such a pushover.

“Look,” he said, tone low. “I don’t...I don’t like the idea of leaving you here with that creep hanging about. Next stop is Illinois, you can get a ride that far. Does that suit you?”

Kurt looked at him for a second, blinking, then a relieved grin broke across his face like the frickin sunshine.

“Are you sure, I’d...I’d be so grateful. You don’t even know.”

“Just eat your breakfast,” Puck said, doing his best impression of gruff. “I didn’t pick you up when that ass dumped you out last time just to abandon you here with him again now. Besides, it’ll be busier in Illinois, much easier to find a lift.”

Kurt beamed like Puck had just offered him a damn pile of gold and not just a lift, and with the threat of Karosky gone he finally tucked into his breakfast.

~*~*~*~

“You have a great singing voice,” Kurt said.

Puck jumped a little, because it was the first thing Kurt had said in a good hour. He hadn’t even realised he was singing, though he supposed he must have been. He normally travelled alone so he wasn’t exactly use to controlling himself. Kurt looked a little embarrassed to have said that out loud so Puck laughed in what he hoped was a cheerful way.

“Never had nobody say that before.” he said. “Mostly my ma just tell me to shut the hell up when I sing.”

“Well, if is. Your voice, I mean...it’s nice. You sing really well. You should do gigs or something. I mean, if you wanted. Like, just an open mic night, nothing high pressure. I’m sure other people would love to hear you sing too.”

“Nah,” Puck said with a shrug. “I’m nothing special. I mean, I thought about those things. I used to have a guitar but there’s not really any place to keep it in a cab and, well, I’ve got on idea where I’m gonna be from one day to the next so what’s the point, really. It’s not like I can make plans.”

“I guess...” Kurt said, and he sounded uncertain. Puck spared a glance at him and he was frowning, like he was upset by something.

“You sing?” he asked, hoping that keeping the conversation moving might get rid of that frown.

“Yes,” Kurt confirmed. “Mostly to myself, alone in my room. I thought about joining Glee choir at school but I thought it might be a bit...a bit too gay.”

“Aren’t you gay?” Puck asked, realising as soon as it was out of his mouth that he’d only ever presumed the other guy was gay, it wasn’t like he’d seen any hard proof. He looked over again, and Kurt looked like he was going to cry. For a second he thought he was going to be dealing with indignant tears, but that wasn’t what happened.

“How does everyone know?”

“What do you mean, how does everyone know?” Puck asked.

“How is it that everyone I meet knows I’m gay straight away? Karofsky knew, you know, everyone at school knew and I’ve never told a soul. Well, until now I suppose.”

Puck took a second to be vaguely honoured that he was apparently the first person Kurt had come out to in the world, then another second to panic about how the hell he answered that question without sounding like a complete dick.

“I guess, look, I know it’s horribly stereotypical but I guess it’s the way you act? I don’t know...your voice, a little, or something about the way you carry yourself? God, Kurt, I don’t even know how to put it into words but when I look at you, I see gay. I know it ain’t what you want to hear but it’s all I can tell you.”

For a few minutes Kurt was quiet, then he nodded. “I can see why I guess. I’ve always loved fashion and I take care of my appearance and, well, I guess I can see why. I just wish it wasn’t true. I hate being so transparent to people and I hate how people like Karosky look at me and think they know me and what I’ll do for them.”

“It’s not...damn Kurt, what Karofsky did isn’t personal. He’s the kind of guy who thinks everyone wants him and there’s no talking with guys like that. It’s not about you, it’s about him.”

“But when you drop me off, there are going to be more guys like that,” Kurt said, and he looked damn miserable. “I’ve...I’ve got no idea to tell who I can trust and who I can’t. This is just such a bad idea. I mean, I can’t go back but...I don’t know what to do...”

Puck sighed. He reached over a skipped a few tracks on his CD, trying to think of a solution other then the obvious one, but he really couldn’t.

“Fine,” he said, shaking his head. “You can ride with me to Salt Lake City, but that’s as far as I’m going. I’ll see if I can find you a ride at the other end too.”

“You don’t have to...”

“Look, I’m not saying you were fishing for that or anything, but you can’t say stuff like that and not expect me to take pity on you a little. Or, look, if I knew you were worried like that and left you by the road I’d be a complete ass. My mom would kick my ass so hard when I got home if I left you too. Lady’s scary.”

“It’s not like you’d have to tell her.”

“She’d know. Told you, scary woman. Hey, you want to put some of your music on for a while?”

“You wouldn’t like it.”

“Won’t know if I don’t try,” Puck said with a shrug. “If I’m going to give this entire picking up a hitchhiker thing out, well, I might as well try some new music too.”

 **Leg 4 - Illinois to Chillicothe - 12:30 to 17:30**

“Why did you become a truck driver?”

Puck glanced over to find Kurt watching him, an open and curious look on his face. They’d fallen into a kind of pattern since Puck had agreed to take him to Salt Lake City. Kurt had taken control of the music, flipping between his own mp3 player and Puck’s so they both got some songs. He was a bit surprised to find any overlap in their tastes but a few times they found themselves singing along to the same thing, and Kurt sounded good when he sang.

They’d talked a bit, about music mostly. What they liked, Kurt talked about all the shows he wanted to see on Broadway, Puck told him a little about how his music was a strange hybrid of what his ma had liked, what his dad and liked and what had been popular when he was in high school.

They’d stopped for lunch. Kurt had tried to pay but Puck hadn’t let him, insisting he needed to save his money for wherever he ended up. Kurt hadn’t argued too much, though he did look a bit embarrassed that Puck was paying. Mostly, though, it had been easy. Easier then Puck would have thought it could be. He was so used to having the cab to himself, he’d expected having Kurt there to be a bit like an itch but it really wasn’t.

“I mean, you don’t have to tell me if it’s personal,” Kurt continued, biting his lip and looking out of the window. Puck sighed and shifted in his seat.

“It’s not a big deal, I needed a job, my dad used to be a trucker, I figured why the hell not.”

“Oh,” Kurt said, fiddling with his mp3 player. “Is your dad still a trucker?”

“Nah,” Puck said, shrugging. “Don’t know where he is, or what he’s going. Don’t give a damn, to be honest. If he came back I’d only want to punch him for leaving ma with me and my sister like that. Wasn’t nice. I mean, I was old enough to know he was an asshole and we’re better off without him but my sister, she don’t remember him and she wishes she did.”

“It’s hard growing up without a parent,” Kurt said, a little absently. He flicked through a few tracks on Puck’s mp3 player and didn’t elaborate, so Puck left it. He wasn’t going to pry, if Kurt wanted to talk about something he was going to have to just come out and say it.

“If you hate your dad so much,” Kurt continued after he’d settled on a track. “I mean, I think you hate him. You did say you wanted to punch him. If you hate him so much then why do you do the same job as him? And why do you listen to his music?”

Puck thought that one over for a second. The job part was easy, he did the job because he needed the money. He needed the money so he could take care of his family. His ma needed him, Sarah needed him, and he needed to eat too. He might be a bit of a trouble maker and a loser of a son, but the least he could do was make sure they had the money he could give them.

The music was harder. He did think of his dad when he heard the music, but it was different.

“I guess,” he said, adjusting his grip on the wheel. “Well, I guess the music reminds me of good time. My dad was an asshole, yeah, but it wasn’t all bad. He thought he was a rocker, he used to sing to my ma and to me and Sarah, and some of the songs I have, they’re the ones he sung. Others, well, he used to just put them on when he was in a good mood. I think the music is all he ever really shared with me. He used to sit me down and play me songs and talk to me about them. I know he’d a worthless piece of shit, but I guess they still mean something to me.”

“My musicals are a little like that,” Kurt said after a pause, shifting in his seat. “I mean, my mum...she didn’t leave, she died, but she loved the musicals so much. When she was ill I used to lie in bed with her and we’d watch them on loop. When she...I kept watching them, anyway. I think of her when I do. What she’d be like now, the things she’d say to me.”

“That’s what I like about music,” Puck said, once Kurt had stopped talking and drifted of into his own reflections. “It’s...I mean, it brings out emotions, I guess. This gig gets pretty lonely some times, but as long as I have my music, it’s like I’m not alone.”

“That’s sweet,” Kurt said, then flushed a little when he realised he’d said it aloud. “I mean, not that you’re sweet but...”

Puck laughed, then reached over and squeezed Kurt’s arm.

“Doesn’t matter, I know what you mean. Hey, do you mind queuing up ‘only the good die young’ for my next? I love that song.”

 **Break - Chillicothe - 17:30 to 18:30**

“How do you survive, eating like this all the time?” Kurt asked, peering at Puck across his grease burger. Puck laughed, then took another bite and chewed it slowly, watching Kurt watch him eat. He was feeling good right now, it was true. Kurt had turned out to be better company then he could have hoped for once he got the guy talking, and it had definitely kept the ride so far from being boring. He’d proved himself funny once he got over his quiet. He was also like a million times more intelligent then Puck which he should have found intimidating but he didn’t since, well, Kurt wasn’t using his intelligence against Puck or holding it over him.

“I don’t normally eat like this,” he admitted. “This is a pretty quick run for me, I normally don’t have such a strict deadline that I definitely have to meet, but I’m hauling some family’s stuff and they’ll make trouble if I’m late, so it’s easier to just grab food in places like this.”

“I guess,” Kurt said, moving the food around his plate. He’d ordered a chicken salad but even that seemed to be covered in grease, the salad was limp and tired looking and he’d gotten a horrible glare from the waiter for ordering it, Puck guessed there wasn’t much call for salads around here. “This is going to do no favours for my skin, though,” Kurt said with a sigh, poking his fork reluctantly at a piece of lettuce.

“With all that stuff you smeared on it this morning, I think it’ll cope for a few days.”

“Maybe,” Kurt said, frowning. “That ‘stuff’ can only do so much, though. I don’t even know how they managed to get so much grease on this.”

“Special cooking techniques known only to diners,” Puck replied, trying to look seriously but failing. “You’re right, though, this kind of is a new level of foul. There isn’t even a store here though, and all I’ve got left in the cab is some cookies.”

Kurt wrinkled his nose, he’d already turned the pack down once, saying they looked suspicious. Puck had to admit they were a bit suspicious. He’d found them when he was sorting through the things they’d dumped off the top bunk and he had no clear recollection of buying them.

“Tell you what, we’ll be in Lincoln before bed, there’s a proper truck stop there, and I store if I’m remembering right. We’ll stock up there tonight so tomorrow we don’t have to eat in diners.”

“That sounds amazing,” Kurt said, smiling that smile that didn’t at all tug at any part of Puck’s anatomy. “You’re not going to be horribly offend if I don’t eat my greasy lettuce, are you?”

“Not so long as you’re not offended if I finish every last bite of my grease burger,” Puck said with a laugh.

 **Leg 5 - Chillicothe to Lincoln - 18:30 to 22:30**

When they got back in the truck, Kurt had curled up in his seat and tucked his legs under himself in a strangely graceful way, and it kind of did something funny to Puck’s stomach, and he knew this could turn into trouble. It wasn’t that he hadn’t noticed Kurt was an attractive guy before, it was just that the fear coming off him had overwhelmed that a bit, but now he was relaxing and, well, Puck was only human.

Only he wasn’t doing this, because that would be such a bad idea.

But it was like, with that moment, Kurt had flipped a switch. Puck couldn’t stop noticing him, and fuck he wasn’t used to this. Being on the road, he normally got his satisfaction with his hand or with the money he didn’t send to his family. And it wasn’t really about attraction, it was about what the other person could do for you. He’s almost forgot the strange awareness of being around someone you find attractive. The way their presence plays at the edge of your senses.

They talked for a while, a little about life on the road, a little about food. Kurt was clearly hungry, he even tried one of the cookies and declared them probably still edible. He talked about his favourite recipe’s and the food his ma used to make and by the time he was done Puck was damn hungry again too.

After a while they fell into silence, Kurt staring out of the window with his brow wrinkled, legs still tucked under him. Puck didn’t look too much, just listened to his music and focused on the road.

Still, it seemed to take longer then usual to get to Lincoln.

 **Break - Lincoln - 22:30 to 8:30**

Shopping with Kurt turns out to be a revelation. They get to the stop and Kurt nearly kills himself he’s in such a rush to get out of the cab and find them some food, and Puck’s pretty damn hungry again too so he doesn’t even laugh at him too much.

It was obvious to look at Kurt that the kid came from a family with some money. He dressed nice, he had all those ointments to smear on his face, and there was something in his attitude, something classy. Puck had kind of expected Kurt to not pay much attention to the bottom line when he shopped, just grab what he wanted and pay, and he’d kind of come to terms with that in his own head. After all, this was only for a few days, he had the money, might as well spend a little on himself and it had nothing to do with his growing awareness of Kurt. Nothing at all.

Turned out that Kurt was the most conscientious shopper Puck had ever met, and that included his ma who hoarded coupons and would never pay full price for anything.

Apparently, while he’d been focusing on driving Kurt had been thinking about what kind of meal, exactly, he could make using only the microwave oven and kettle in Puck’s cab. When they got into the store it was like he was on a mission, and he quickly left Puck to loiter in the snack aisle, contemplating cookies that weren’t stale while he went and ferreted out the cheapest ingredients.

Of course he only knew this was what Kurt had been doing because when they met again to pay Kurt told him all about it, how he’d wanted this and that but the other was so much cheaper and would be just as good and this was going to be much cheaper and nicer then the grease burgers.

Puck bought two packs of cookies and some chips. He figured he might need them. Not that he didn’t trust Kurt to cook or anything, he just figured snacking would give him something to do with his hands until they went to bed. Something other then trying to touch Kurt without Kurt noticing.

This was so not happening to him.

When they got back to the cab he did his log and shut everything down while Kurt moved around the limited space at the back, making things. It was oddly domestic and calming and he certainly wasn’t thinking things like that.

He definitely didn’t think anything when he finished locking down the truck and Kurt was sat all graceful on his bed with dinner. Definitely not. He wasn’t even thinking about it.

Not even when Kurt gave him this odd, shy smile when Puck moved to sit next to him on the bed.

“It’s nothing special,” Kurt said, nudging the plate towards him. “Just some cous-cous and flavourings, really.”

“Smells good,” Puck replied, resisting the urge to bump his shoulder against Kurt’s. Kurt looked pleased anyway and tucked in. Puck followed his example, and it was a bit weird but it tasted good too. Much better then most of the crap he managed to produce in his tiny kitchen.

It would have been perfect if Kurt hadn’t gone back to the strange silence of last night, pushing his food about in away that Puck now knew meant he had something on his mind that he wasn’t ready to share just yet.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong?” he finally asked, when his place was nearly empty and Kurt’s was barely touched though he knew the kid was hungry.

Kurt looked at him for a second, really looked at him, and Puck felt oddly naked. He wasn’t used to being stared at like that, not at all. After a few second Kurt looked away again.

“No, I’m sorry, not this time.”

“Well,” Puck said, blinking. He certainly hadn’t expected that. “I guess that’s fine, though you should at least try to eat something.”

“I’m sorry,” Kurt mumbled, and then be began diligently eating. Puck tried not to pay attention but it was hard not to. Kurt had tensed up again, and he wondered that the hell he’d done wrong because he thought they were past this. He thought he’d got through to Kurt that he wasn’t going to hurt him, but the kid looked scared.

“Look,” Puck said, shifting. “I’m...I’m gonna go wash up and change for the night. Just, just try to chill out, okay,” he said, and then made a hasty exit in the hope it would give Kurt some space to think.

He spent the time apart trying desperately not to think. He tried not to think about the hurt in Kurt’s eyes. He tried not to think about how gorgeous Kurt had been earlier. He tried not to think about how he wanted to make things better for Kurt so badly, though he knew he probably couldn't.

If he’d known the kid was going to be this much trouble he’d have never picked him up.

When he got back to the truck Kurt had changed for bed, but he was still sat on Puck’s bunk looking awkward. When Puck locked the cab door again he turned to find Kurt watching him from below long eyelashes and, okay, so the guy was attractive.

“I...I was thinking while you were out,” Kurt said, and he sounded soft and uncertain. “Look, I’m sorry if I’m reading the situation wrong, I probably am, I always have been before but...do you want to sleep with me?”

Something twisted in Puck’s stomach. He was sure he hadn’t been that obvious but he had been doing a lot of watching over the last few hours, maybe he’d been more obvious then he thought? Kurt was shifting uncomfortable and Puck moved to sit on the bunk, leaving space between them.

“I...I’m not gonna force you or anything. I’m nothing like that Karofsky asshole.”

“So you do?”

“I...I’m not sure what I want, but I’m not sure I’d say no, if that makes sense,” Puck said, and he hoped Kurt got it because he wasn’t sure he got what was going on here.

“Will you have sex with me?”

And Puck was so damn shocked he could only gape and say what, because here was a kid who ran away from Karofsky offering that, a kid he suspected had very little by way of experience, asking him for sex.

“I...I know it’s suddenly and I know I’ll probably be bad at it because it’s my first time but, please. I trust you, you’ve been so good to me, and when you leave me I’m going to be out there in the world with a million people who only want to hurt and I want my first time, at least, to be nice.”

This was all said in a rush, but Puck got the gist of it and it turned his stomach. It was better then his first thought, that Kurt wanted to pay him back for the lift, but still in no way good.

“Kurt. It’s not that...look, how old are you, even?”

“I’m eighteen,” Kurt said, a little desperately. “I swear I am, I’m in my last year of high school, I should graduate in a few weeks.”

“But you’re a virgin?”

“Yes,” Kurt admitted, biting his lip. “I know I won’t be any good in bed but I want to try, please.”

“It’s not that you won’t be any good, Kurt,” Puck said with a sigh. “I just, look, when I was your age I threw myself around a lot. I’m not going to lie and tell you sex is some mythical experience, but there’s a lot of trust in it.”

“That’s why I want it to be you,” Kurt interrupted, reaching over to grab Puck’s hand. “I trust you, you’ve given me no reason to not trust you. Please.”

“Look, there’s a lot about me you don’t know,” Puck said, a little desperate. It was tempting to give in, he knew it. He knew Kurt would be eager in bed, he could imagine them together and a big part of him wanted to just fuck Kurt. There were times in his life he would have done it without a question asked, but he couldn’t right now. He knew Kurt was doing this because he was scared. It didn’t want sex, he just wanted to not be a virgin and there was a difference. Slowly he reached over and put his arm around Kurt.

“Look, I ain’t saying I don’t want to, because I do, but I won’t. Not tonight, anyway. You’re not ready, whatever you’re saying to me, and I’m the older, responsible one here so I’ve got to be sensible. I just...damn Kurt, if we do this you’ll regret it tomorrow”

“I won’t,” Kurt said, with a certainly that, just for a second, made Puck want to give up all his ideas about taking care and doing what was right and just fuck the kid.

“You think you won’t, fine. Then tomorrow we’ll talk about it again, we’ve got another night in the cab before Salt Lake City after all.”

“Promise.”

“I ain’t promising to sleep with you, I’m promising we’ll talk about it again. Okay?”

“Yes,” Kurt said, sagging a little. “Can we...will you at least kiss me?”

“Haven’t you even been kissed?” Puck asked, looking the other man. Kurt give him a miserable look.

“I come from Ohio, Puck. It’s not exactly brimming with gay men falling over each other to be with me. I mean...I have. I kissed a girl once, but that doesn’t count...and Karofsky kissed but that that was horrible. I mean, whatever else happens I’d much rather have you as the last person to kiss me then Karofsky.”

“I...” Puck stopped himself, he wanted to promise to punch Karofsky the next time he saw him, and he wasn’t sure where that came from of it Kurt would want it. He pushed it down instead and turned to look at Kurt, who was looking at him with so much damn hope in his eyes.

It was only kissing, it was okay.

He started off soft, putting an arm around Kurt to draw him in and keeping the kiss chaste, but either the chick he mentioned kissing was a good teacher or he was a natural because he seemed to know just what to do, tilting his head in just the right way, parting his lips just so, leaning against Puck in just the right way, sensual but a little chaste, not openly erotic like he was used to. A kiss for no better reason then kissing would be nice.

At some point they lay down, arms around each other. It had been years since Puck had done this, just held someone and kissed them, he’d forgotten how close to them it made you feel. How it felt like you were the only two people in the world.

Eventually they had to cool off, laying a little way apart and talking again, just about non-important things. Puck told Kurt about a few of the places he’d visited, Kurt told Puck about the places he’d like to visit. They kissed a little more, but not as intensely, and somehow Kurt came to be lying on Puck’s chest when he drifted off to sleep.

It was something Puck hadn’t even known he’d missed.

 **Leg 6 - Lincoln to Hershey - 8:30 to 12:00**

Puck woke to Kurt slipping out of his arms, making an incoherent sound and trying to drag Kurt back in the sheets before he was even fully away. Kurt laughed and kissed his cheek, and Puck felt oddly vulnerable to the soft, familiar gesture. He was used to quick, dirty sex. Not long make-out sessions and soft kisses to the cheek after.

When Kurt came back he’d managed to drag himself out of bed and make himself coherent. He tried to kiss Kurt good morning, figuring if Kurt got to make these gestures to did too, to find himself exiled to the truck stop bathroom with his toothbrush.

He got his kiss when he’d washed up, and breakfast which was nice. Kurt seemed a little uncertain, but happy, and he responded every time Puck went to kiss him, which nearly put them behind for the day. He might have let it if he didn’t have a deadline to be in Salt Lake City by.

As it was, he got them out at the time he wanted them out, with Kurt who managed to somehow look immaculate despite the fact he’d been rather thoroughly kissed back in control of the mp3 players.

He couldn’t stop himself looking at Kurt and smiling. He knew this was going to end, but he hadn’t felt like this in years. Not since way back when he’d loved Quinn before everything with Beth. It felt light and uncomplicated, though he knew it was anything but, and for the morning he was content to ride, listening to Kurt chatter and the happy music he put on in the background, not thinking too hard about what was going to come next.

 **Leg 7 - Hershey to Cheyenne - 13:00 to 16:15**

Puck almost didn’t want to stop and disturb the little nest then seemed to have built for themselves out of the music and the intimacy of the morning, but nature was calling by the time they got close to Hershey so there was nothing to do but pull in and see to it.

Kurt seemed happy to unfold himself anyway, springing down from the cab and, okay, it had been a little cramped in there but it wasn’t as bad as all that. He laughed at Kurt who took the chance to do some stretches, though Kurt just laughed right back at him and said he’d see the benefit of it later when he was all cramped up from driving all day and Kurt was still flexible. Puck really, really liked the idea of a flexible Kurt that evening so he left the guy by the cab and went for a wander.

He was kind of surprised as he walked to spot a familiar truck. One from his company, even. He hadn’t know anyone else was out this way. It was one of the older drivers, a friend of his pa’s, and it wouldn't have been polite to pass by without saying hi to he gave a wave and when the guy gestured to him he walked over.

The guy was called Ted, and he’d been an old-timer to the business when Puck was a little boy. Puck liked him well enough, though some of his ideas were a little old. The guy always remembered to ask after Puck’s ma and sister anyway, and he liked that in a man.

They exchanged the usual pleasantries, questions about families and the roads and where they’d been lately. He’d been about to excuse himself when Ted had turned to gesture at his truck.

“Who’s the queer?”

And Puck flinched a little because, yeah, he’s used that term for Kurt when he first saw him too but, well, Kurt had his boy now and that meant he deserved respect. Only Ted didn’t know that, and Kurt was queer.

“A kid I picked up back in Ohio.”

“Didn’t know you swung that way,” Ted said with a suspicious glance, and Puck hated that. Hated how this guy was judging him. He wished he’d just pissed in a cup or something and not bothered leaving the cab.

“For the record, I swing all kinds of ways,” Puck growled, “But I’m not fucking the kid.”

“Good,” Ted said, nodding. “Looks like a runaway. Always best to steer clear, they’re trouble. Hell, if t was me I’d put him out at the next stop, leave him to find his own way.”

“Can’t do that,” Puck replied, shrugging. “Wouldn’t be right, he’d only a kid really.”

“Old enough to run away, he’s got to be old enough to fend for himself. What you gonna do, hold his hand to wherever he’d going? Has he even got a place to stay when he gets there?”

And Puck didn’t know. He’d avoided asking Kurt anything about it, avoided thinking about it. And this was why picking him up had been such a bad idea, because he was going to have to leave him and, right now, he really didn’t want to. Kurt was sweet, and trusting, and no matter what he thought a quick fuck tonight wouldn’t make him ready for the world.

But he couldn’t stop him either.

He made some noise at Ted about not giving a damn where Kurt ended up and excused himself, going back to his own cab and climbing in, where Kurt was waiting for him with a smile and kisses and dinner and, damnit, Ted was right. Kurt was only a kid and he was trouble and he shouldn’t be doing this but he knew he was a mess over this kid already, it was too late to back down now.

~*~*~*~

It took him two hours out of Hershey to get up the guts to say anything. Kurt had seemed to pick up that someone was wrong, he’d been more subdued then he’d been in the first half of the journey, but he hadn’t pushed it and Puck was happy for that.

In the end, though, he knew he was going to have to ask. When they’d set out he’d promised not to make it personal but he knew he couldn't. He was thinking of taking the kid to bed with him tonight, and not like he took his ladies to bed. He wasn’t thinking of a quick tumble, he was thinking of being slow and gentle and showing this boy what sex could be like before the world disappointed him.

“Why are you heading to San Francisco?” he blurted, finally. Kurt looked at him like he’d gone mad, then turned and looked out of the window.

“I’m not talking about it.”

“Look, don’t make this hard.”

“It’s none of your business,” Kurt snapped, and Puck was already kind of kicking himself for asking.

“I don’t...look, I just want to know why you’re going there specifically, I don’t need to know why you’re running away. I’m not...damn Kurt, I’m just worried it all.”

“Well, you don’t need to worry, I know what I’m doing.”

“Like you knew what you were doing when you got into that cab with Karofsky?”

He knew that was below the belt, but it slipped out anyway. He way the way Kurt’s shoulders tightened, the way he turned away a little more, not looking at Puck even out of the corner of his eye.

“Kurt...”

“Just shut up,” Kurt snapped, so he did.

They didn’t say anything for the rest of the leg.

 **Leg 8 - Cheyenne to Wamsutter - 17:15 to 20:15**

When the pulled in, Kurt more or less threw himself out of the cab again, only this time it was anger and not hunger or joy that made him jump. Puck thought about following him, but he couldn’t imagine a way that wouldn’t make it worse. At least Kurt had left his bag so he knew he’d have to come back.

He didn’t dare leave the cab in case Kurt came back and he missed him. He didn’t need the bathroom anyway, and he was hardly going to go and eat without Kurt.

He couldn’t even listen to his music without thinking about Kurt, so be left it off.

It took nearly an hour for Kurt to come back, and it didn’t take long to figure out the boy was in tears. He reached over and opened the passenger door ready for him, and was glad when Kurt climbed in, shut it behind him, then reached over and wrapped himself around Puck’s neck.

It was awkward, sat at the steering wheel, but there was a kind of desperation in how Kurt was clinging to him and he didn’t want to disturb him.

Kurt pulled back on his own pretty quickly, the position must have been uncomfortable for him too. He wiped at his eyes and Puck gave in to the desire to reach out and trail a finger along Kurt’s cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Shouldn’t have asked that. I mean, it’s your business, not mine.”

“No, don’t be sorry,” Kurt said, reaching up and gripping Puck’s hand where it was touching his cheek. “I...I should have talked to you sooner. I mean, when we talked last night we talked about trust and about how I trust you, but I didn’t think that you have to trust me too. I don’t know why, I guess I wasn’t thinking about it. But, you deserve to know.”

“Only if you want to tell me,” Puck said, and he hoped he was reassuring, because he really didn’t want Kurt upset over this.

“I...I think I need to tell you. Or someone, at least. But, can we drive while I talk. I think it’ll help.”

“Sure,” Puck said. They spent a few minutes straightening up, Puck did dare to leave Kurt alone long enough to use the bathroom and they topped up the gas tank again, then they were back on the road.

~*~*~*~

It was half an hour before Kurt spoke. Puck didn’t push, he knew that when there were hard things that needed to be said it helped to have some time to think about them before you just said them.

“When my mom died,” Kurt started, finally .”I felt like the world ended. Seriously. I felt like my entire world was over. I was only eight, I needed my mom more I needed anyone else in the world. She accepted me in a way that nobody else ever has. She taught me to love myself, that I was someone worth loving. I’m not saying my dad was bad, I just don’t think he knew what to do with me. I mean, as a little kid, I used to want to have tea parties and wear high hells, so it was obvious I was going to be different.

“My mom was supportive, she was amazing. My dad, he had a lot of deal with. My mom was always in and out of hospital and I was...me. It was a lot of stress for him. He’s kind of...he runs a garage and he’s just...he’s just a guy. I don’t think he had the faintest idea what to do with a gay son...”

Kurt trailed of, and Puck spared him a glance, he was staring out of the window, and Puck wished he could reach over and hug him.

“My mom loved me, loved me so much. And I loved her. She knew, I think, that I was gay. She knew I was going to have a hard life, anyway. One of the last things she said to me, the last time I went to see her in the hospital. Well, my dad stepped outside to talk to the doctor and my mom told me I had to work hard to fit in. She told me I had to try and support my dad and make things easier for him wherever I could.

“It’s not like I haven’t tried, it’s all I’ve done. I tried to make things easier for him, when mom died. I tried to be strong and dependable and not put too much pressure on him. I tried not to cry in front of him, to do more then my share about the house. At first it was okay, but it seems as I’ve gotten older, we’ve gotten more distant. At first we didn’t talk at all, not really. We’ve never talked about my mum. We don’t remember her. I tried, a few times, but my dad just left the room.

“And, it was hard, don’t get me wrong, but I could manage. I’m used to being alone,” Puck’s heart tightened at that, because he knew the sentiment well. The feeling of being used to being alone, being used to having nobody to trust in but yourself. Kurt was silent for a few minutes, then, and as it started to get uncomfortable Puck risked reaching over and taking his hand for a few seconds.

“I know what you mean,” he said, softly. “Loneliness is something you get used to, isn’t it. It stops seeming so bad after a while.”

“Yeah,” Kurt mumbled, softly, squeezing Puck’s hand back.

“I...things changed. It started in my second year of high school, my dad met someone. I didn’t even know he was looking again. She’s...I mean, I don’t hate her. It’s not her fault, but sometimes I feel like dad just wants to forget mom ever existed, and now he’s got this new family. Carole, she has a son. He’s my age, I kind of had a crush on him a little until...

“I thought my dad was just a quiet man, but it seems like he never stops talking with Finn. They talk about sport and cars and my dad takes Finn in to work with him and teaches him things. He never offered to do that with me, just left me home alone. And Finn, he doesn’t seem to know what to do with me either. He called me a fag once when my dad wasn’t listening and he’s refused to share a bedroom with me, but on the other hand he does sometimes reach out to me...it just never seems to work. Carole, too, she tries to spend time with me but...

“My dad had a heart attack earlier this year. I’d hoped it would bring us together, I spent every day he was in the hospital sat next to his bed, but when he woke up it was just as awkward as before. Then he decided to marry Carole. They told us in school straight after he proposed, like it was the best thing ever and they couldn’t wait.

“I offered to help plan the wedding but Carole just said I was too young and did it all. I offered to sing at the wedding but Finn’s in the glee choir at school and he got them to provide the music. In the end, it was like I wasn’t even there.

“It’s always like I’m not even there. They have their family life. They laugh and do things together and I’m always just the odd one out. It goes quiet when I come into the room and it’s not like they’re hostile or something but it’s like my dad finally got the family he always wanted and I’m not even a part of it and I just couldn’t stand it any more.”

Puck couldn’t stand it any more either, and he’d never been more thankful for a lay-by in his life. He stopped the truck and unfastened his seat belt but Kurt moved faster, reaching over to wrap himself around Puck. It was damn awkward with the wheel and anything but Puck managed to maneuver them so nothing was digging in.

“Have you told your dad any of this?” he asked, stroking Kurt’s hair softly. He felt the shake of Kurt’s head against his shoulder. No, of course not. Puck had known that, knew just how hard to was to turn around to a parent and tell them you needed more.

“F...Finn just go turned down for a football scholarship and I’ve not been able to find a scholarship yet either. I know they can’t afford to send us both to college if they have to pay so I...I thought it’d be better for everyone if I left. I can find my own way and they can have the family they want without me in it.

“Kurt, I...I don’t even know what to say to that.” Puck said, drawing him closer. “I know I shouldn't criticise but have you even thought about what you’re going to do when you get there? And why so far away?”

“I have some friends there,” Kurt whispered. “Well, Internet friends. Friend. He said I could stay with him, but now I think he means I can sleep with him for a roof over my head. I don’t want to do that, I don’t want my first time to be prostitution. But what will I say if I go home now?”

“Well, you could start with some of the stuff you just said to me,” Puck said softly, rubbing Kurt’s back. “I mean, it might not help, but if there’s even a chance you can sort this out and have a family, isn’t that worth taking? I’ve lost all my family. My dad left. My high school girlfriend got pregnant but she gave up the baby and hasn’t spoken to me since she gave birth. My mom thinks I’m a failure and my little sister barely knows me I’m away so much, but we try. Family’s important, Kurt. It’s difficult and frustrating but it’s important too, and if there’s even a chance you can keep close to your family, however faint the chance, I think you have to do it.”

For a moment they were quiet and Puck wondered if he’d said too much, but then Kurt pulled back and kissed him gently on the cheek.

“Thank you,” he said, softly. “I’m not...I don’t know what I want to do yet, but thank you. For everything. I’d be in so much trouble by now if it wasn’t for you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Puck mumbled, pulling Kurt in for a quick kiss and then nudging him off his lap. “Come on, let’s get back on the road. I’ll see if I can stop a bit earlier tonight and we can talk some more, if you want.”

“Ok,” Kurt mumbled, shifting back into his seat. Puck pulled them back on to the road and after a couple of minute’s Kurt’s hand slid over to tangle in his. He held it tightly.

 **Break - Wamsutter - 20:15 to 8:00**

Kurt seemed to calm down a little during the remainder of the drive. He uncurled a little and they even chatted, turning on the radio for a while then deciding they both hated it and switching back to Kurt in control of the mp3 players.

He’d have liked to get a bit further to make sure he was where he needed to be in good time tomorrow, but he wanted Kurt in his arms more.

They stopped early, and almost as soon as they were fully stopped Kurt was climbing over again, kissing him and getting into a position that must have been horribly uncomfortable with the wheel right there.

“Hey,” he mumbled, running his hand up and down Kurt’s back. “Let’s...do you want to make us something to eat while I lock down, then we can talk.”

“What if I don’t want to talk?” Kurt asked, pressing sloppy kisses of Puck’s neck, and it did funny things to Puck when he did that.

“I’m not ruling that out, okay,” he said, shifting Kurt back. “But whatever we have to do, we’ve got to talk first. I don’t want to be another regret for you.”

“You won’t be,” Kurt reassured him, giving him a final kiss and pulling away. “But, yeah, sure. Food first.”

It took some conviction to climb out of the cab and begin locking down. It took a damn lot of conviction to ignore Kurt being so close while he filled out his log book. Eating dinner together was almost like torture, because he knew. It had been so damn long since he’d had sex that meant anything, that was anything other then just a quick fuck, and if nothing else tonight would always live on as Kurt’s first time.

It had been a hell of a long time since he’d been anyone’s first.

His only consolation was that Kurt seemed as nervous as him, shifting around and giving him long, thoughtful looks.

He washed the dishes after while Kurt used the bathroom. After dropping the same plate three time he gave up and let them sit. He’d deal with them in the morning.

He felt ridiculously nervous, his stomach tight, almost as though this was HIS first time and not just Kurt’s. He knew Kurt was trusting him to be the more responsible one in this situation, the more experienced one, but he couldn’t help but think that what he was about to do wasn’t like anything he’d ever done before.

And then they were both back in the cab and Kurt was holding his hand gently but there was a determined look in his eye.

“Are you sure about this?” he found himself asking.

“So sure,” Kurt replied, blushing, and Puck let himself believe him. Finally, he reached out and pulled him in to his arms, kissing him.

He wouldn’t lie and say that it was perfect, or that Kurt was some kind of natural at sex. It was quick for both of them the first time, and messy, and Kurt laughed at the strangest points and once Puck nearly dropped him off the side of the bed by accident.

After, they lay together in bed wrapped in each other’s arms. It couldn’t have been more perfect.

 **Leg 9 - Wamsutter to Salt Lake City - 8:00 to 12:00**

If you’d asked him about it before, Puck would have expected the morning after to be awkward. Instead it was just kind of natural. Kurt woke him with soft kisses and they managed to squeeze in another round before they had to get on the road.

For the rest of the drive they sang along to the radio, laughing to each other and joking. It felt a lot like home.

 **Salt Lake City, Delivery made**

They didn’t talk more about what Kurt was going to do from here right away. They arrived to find the family waiting, looking uptight and nervous, and Puck found himself spending far too long going through ALL their possessions with them as they were unloaded until they agreed that he was right, nothing was broken.

The wife kept giving Kurt strange looks, like she wasn’t quite sure where Puck had found him from of it she approved of him or not. He wasn’t sure if she didn’t appreciate Puck picking someone up or if she thought that Kurt could do better then him.

He focused on the job and tried not to think. Tried not to think about the long journey he might be taking home alone, tried not to think about leaving Kurt somewhere and never seeing him again. He knew it was ridiculous and that, really, they barely knew each other but he felt like Kurt meant something, and he didn’t want to add him to the list of people he’d lost.

They didn’t talk when he climbed back in the truck, in a thorough bad mood, and drove them away. Not about anything important, anyway. All the way to the truck stop he complained about self-important assholes who thought they could tell him how to do his job.

And then they were there, parked up. He scanned the trucks, he hoped like hell he didn’t have to go out there and find Kurt a lift to take him onwards, but if he had to he would.

“Puck,” Kurt said, and he didn’t even realise he’d been glaring out of the window until Kurt said that, reaching over and touching his arm. “I...would it be okay with you if I rode with you back to Westerville?”

Puck turned, studying the other man for a second, then gave him a relieved smile.

“Of course,“ he said, “I’ll take you back with me. It’ll take longer then getting here did, there’s only so many hours I can legally drive in a given time period so I was planning on making my way back slower...”

“That sound wonderful,” Kurt said, leaning forward and kissing him softly. “And...after we get home...”

“We’ll take care of that that,” Puck mumbled, pulling him closer. “But I’ve just got this feeling that everything’s going to work out fine.”

 **And home**

 

 **Epilogue**

Puck had been having a really bad day. There had been a big crash that had shut down the roads and he didn’t want to be a bastard about it but it had left him running late. He hated being late anyway but the entire trip had been cursed and he wanted nothing more then for it to be over.

Kind of didn’t help his mood that he had somewhere to be, too.

The guys when he’d gone and parked up were less then sympathetic, pointing out that he had the next week off so it didn’t matter if he was a little later in starting on his holiday, but that really didn’t make him feel a lot better.

He had a promise to keep, after all.

He’d never really had a holiday before, but it was summer and he thought he was about due. His boss had agreed and given him the time off without argument, but it was still strange as hell to finish packing his bag and leave the truck behind, grabbing a lift down into town.

In the end his boss had insisted on driving him right to the door, and he decided he didn’t mind.

Kurt was sat on the front step of his house, waiting for him. His boss had raised an eyebrow when he saw who was waiting for him but didn’t say anything else. Of course, there had been rumours about him circulating, that he’d been seen more then once with a boy in his cab, but here was the ultimate proof.

“Have a good holiday,” his boss said, grinning, and Puck grinned back, grabbing his bag and swinging out of the car and almost directly into Kurt’s arms.

“Where have you been?” Kurt demanded, pressing his face into Puck’s neck. “I’ve been waiting!”

“Sorry,” Puck mumbled, kissing his cheek. “Car crash on the way here slowing the traffic down, but I’m here now and I’m yours for the entire week.”

“I know,” Kurt said, pulling back to kiss him, and this was damn nice, it had been far too long since they’d managed to be together last.

“Hey Kids,” Burt yelled from the house, and Puck stepped back to wave to him. He still felt a little strange knowing Kurt’s dad, but they’d been doing a lot better recently and the guy seemed, oddly, to like him. He also seemed to love his kid, they just had trouble telling each other about it sometime.

“I told them you’d stay for dinner,” Kurt whispered in his ear, “Since it’s so late, but I still want to get away tonight.”

“We will,” Puck reassured him. “I promised you New York, didn’t I?”

“Yes,” Kurt said, grinning. “I wish we could go in your cab, though. Good memories there.”

“Hey, we’ve got the rest of the summer for you to hang out in my cab with me, this is something special. Not a delivery run, some time just for me and you.”

“I know, and I love you for it.”

“I love you too, you know. Damned if it didn’t sneak up on me but I do. Come on, let’s go get dinner with your family then we can get away. I want to get your for myself.”

“Can’t wait.”


End file.
